Veteran journalist Barbara Falconer Newhall riffs on life as she knows it.
We shared a love of the Michigan woods — pine, oak and birch. Photo by Barbara Newhall[/caption]
This Ojibwe poet would have been dear to my girlish Michigan heart. Why didn’t my Detroit schoolteachers ever mention her? Was I culturally deprived? Read more.
By Barbara Falconer Newhall The people I interviewed for my book, “Wrestling with God: Stories of Doubt and Faith,” are like old friends. I like to look them up from time to time and take in their wisdom and their stories — funny, poignant, passionate. To make contact I don’t need to pick up the phone […]
Take a look at our cool new design for BarbaraFalconerNewhall.com. It’s a work in progress. Hope you like it. Read more.
We traveled 1700 miles to see the eclipse. The moon came between us and the sun, as promised. But so did a big fat cloud. A totality disappointment. Read more.
Sitting at a blank laptop screen awaiting writerly inspiration isn’t that much fun nowadays. I’d rather watch the guys laying asphalt in front of our house. Am I stuck? Read more.
Back in 1987 old age seemed a long ways away. It still does. Read more.
Let’s face it. Spike heels aren’t much good for doing what real women do – drive an SUV, wash down the deck. Same goes for long fingernails. What gives? Read more.